


Sioux Falls Redevelopment Project.

by BarPurple



Series: Deca'verse [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bugs & Insects, Cursed objects, Curses, Gen, Haunted Houses, Haunting, Heaven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1971912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or what else did Bobby Singer have buried in that yard?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Breaking Ground.

The old place had stood empty and abandoned for over two years since fire gutted the house. Unusually for a derelict building in a small town it hadn’t become a hangout for teenagers. No dumb kids sneaked in amongst the slowly rusting cars on a dare. No one out to make an easy buck had considered ‘acquiring’ the bits of scrap metal that still managed to gleam in the sun. In the small town of Sioux Falls the folks knew a little better than to mess with the strange and odd things that cropped up in their apple pie lives from time to time. The old Singer place covered all the bases and then some for strange and odd, so the locals let it be. If someone saw something unusual as they passed by it would make the gossip for a day or so, but nobody felt inclined to investigate. The locals had too much common sense for that; of course Jackson Hart Developers weren’t local or overly blessed with common sense it would seem.

 

\---{}---

 

The ground breaking ceremony was a hastily organized affair. Jackson Hart had waited for twenty months to get their hands on this property and now they wanted to get construction under way as soon as possible, before the investors got cold feet. Alan Hayes, son-in-law of the original Hart, scanned the meagre crowd and cursed small towns under his breath. Would kill them to show a little enthusiasm for the development? They’d come round once the cash started flowing in. Hiking his best press friendly smile on his face Alan turned to his PA.

“Everything in place, Malcom?”

“Yes sir, all the press are in place and the Mayor is ready to go.”

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

 

Sheriff Jody Mills stood at the back of the small crowd. The developers had torn down what was left of the house and banished some of the junkers to a far corner, but this was still Singer Salvage and did it ever feel wrong being here without that cantankerous old grouch frowning at her from under his baseball cap. She let her eyes scan over the crowd not letting her gaze rest in one place for more than a second, but taking in everything of note. She apparently failed to see her Deputy, Frank, Irishing up the coffee of one of the construction workers. 

After the vampire incident a few months back Frank had been one of her guys who she’d let in on the whole ‘supernatural is real’ deal. He’d accepted it in his stoic way and proven a wizard at creatively filling the paperwork on the ‘other’ cases that occurred. He patted the man he’d been chewing the fat with on the back and strolled towards Jody as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He tipped his hat to her and fell in next to her as casual as you please. After a few moments Frank sniffed and calmly said;

“Word is there’ve been a few accidents.”

Jody kept scanning the crowd, but gave a small nod. To an outside observer they could have been discussing what flavour pie to have once this was all over.

“Normal klutziness, or not really accidents?”

Frank smiled a hello at a couple of locals before he answered.

“Nothing major could just be accidents. There’ve been electrical problems too.”

Jody rolled her eyes and thought there was a time when the only thing accidents meant was paperwork and distressed relatives. She focused on the scene before her where the head honcho, Alan Hayes, was making his speech and mugging it up for the press cameras. A tacky gold shovel was brought out and the developer and Mayor posed in the act of breaking ground. Jody saw a flash of St Elmo’s fire dance across the shiny surface of the spade and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. The men plunged the shovel into the earth and for a beat nothing happened, other than camera flashes going off. Jody almost sighed with relief. Then the earth around the shovel blade erupted and spewed out a cascade of beetles.

As one animal the crowd backed off, apart from the press photographers who moved in closer to snap pictures of the dignitaries hopping around swatting at the bugs crawling up their legs. The sheriff and her deputy moved forward to keep everyone back and to get a better look at what was going on. Jody heard at least one kid describe the scene as ‘awesome!’ and it might have stayed that way, until the head of the development company clutched his chest and screamed. 

\---{}---

The ambulance was pulling away by the time Jody got a moment to herself to try and sort through the events of the morning. Her training had taken over when the boss man had started convulsing. Those moments where in her mind as a series of crime scene photos; from the second she’d jabbed the Epipen into him; to trying to keep his airway open; to the paramedics arriving; to the poor guy being taken to the hospital. It had been an adrenaline fuelled twenty minutes, but it was the sort of situation any sheriff worth their salt could handle. 

The homespun phrase ‘worth their salt’ made her shake her head and consider the events of the morning from a hunter’s viewpoint. It didn’t take much to see that there was something going very wrong here. Jody knew she was in over her head and apparently Frank felt the same way. 

“Sheriff, I think it’s time for you to call in a couple of specialists.”

Her phone was already in her hand as she nodded her agreement to Frank; her fingers scrolling through the contacts till they came to the name Winchester.


	2. Calling in the Cavalry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings in the Bunker are a little different these days.

It had been a few weeks since the Trans had delivered Crowley’s cryptic message to the Bunker and it had changed everything. Kevin and his Mom had decided this was the safest place to be while they worked on translating the book Crowley had sent. Even with Dorothy, Toto, Charlie and Castiel adding to the number of permeant residents the Bunker was far from full, but it was more crowded than Sam had ever known it. The strange domesticity they had fallen into made Sam feel a little better about the gaping hole left by Dean’s absence.

Toto joined Sam for part of his morning run these days. The little terrier raced along next to Sam’s pounding feet for half a mile or so before getting tired. The little black dog would sit in the shade of a tree waiting for Sam to run another mile or so before looping back to collect him, then they’d run back to the Bunker together. Sam had been worried the first time Toto had stopped to wait for him. He didn’t want to consider what Dorothy would do to him if any harm came to her beloved dog. The time traveller had reassured him that Toto was smarted than your average mutt and told him not to worry so much. Sam did as he was told and found himself enjoying the canine company each morning.

By the time Sam had finished his shower the tempting aroma of coffee was drifting from the kitchen. Following his nose eagerly Sam wandered into the kitchen and found a naked Castiel. Okay, Cas was clothed, so that might be an exaggeration, but the angel upper half was only covered by his white shirt and that was practically bare compared to what he habitually wore.

“Good morning Sam. Did you enjoy your run?”

Sam took the offered cup of coffee and sat down at the table. After taking a sip he had to ask;

“Cas, where’s your trench coat? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in so few layers.”

The angel shot a nervous smile at Mrs Tran’s back. She was busy making pancakes and appeared unconcerned by the shifty angel behind her.

“Tiger Mommy said if I was staying I should look like it and remove my trench coat and suit jacket while in the house.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at the use of the nickname Dean and him had come up with for Linda Tran. The lady herself turned from the stove, a plate stacked high with pancakes in her hand. She patted Cas on the cheek like a fond auntie and placed the food on the table. Sam would swear up and down that the Angel of the Lord blushed and shuffled his feet like a little kid. Mrs Tran took a deep breath and said with mock seriousness;

“Wish me luck. I’m going to try and wake Charlie up now.”

“Rather you than me.”

With a roll of her eyes and only armed with a cup of exceptionally strong coffee the little woman went to wake the slumbering beast that was their resident tech expert, Charlie was not a morning person. Sam stretched and decided to ease into his morning by teasing Cas.

“Are you intimidated by Tiger Mommy?”

The angel smiled.

“I wouldn’t say intimidated, but she has a strong personality and it is difficult to say no to her. It would appear you have to be tough to be the mother of a prophet, Moses’ mother once told Uriel to hush up and he did.”

Sam laughed at the awe in Castiel’s voice at this revelation. Kevin shuffled into the kitchen yawning as he made a bee line for the coffee. Cas had him a cup poured and ready before he’d crossed the kitchen. Kevin took the cup and drained half of it before a jaw cracking yawn escaped him.

“Late night again?”

Kevin flopped into a chair opposite Sam and nodded as Cas wordlessly freshen up his coffee.

“Thanks Cas. Yeah it was a long one, but I think we’ve had a break through.”

Sam sat up straight suddenly all ears and asked eagerly.

“What you got?”

“Charlie dug up a map from the archives. It marks out the suspected route that Cain took when he wandered the Earth after being cast out. There are approximate dates for his time in each area, which means we’ve been able to narrow down some of the dialects in the book.”

Sam face broke into a huge grin, that faded a little as neither Cas or Kevin looked as happy as he felt about this news.

“What am I missing?”

Kevin ran his hands over his face and tried to stifle another yawn.

“It’s a help, but you got to remember that language wasn’t as uniform in the eras we talking about as it is now. We’ve narrowed it down, but there’s still going be a huge amount of guess work.”

The kitchen fell into a thoughtful silence as Kevin’s words of caution sank in. The book Crowley had sent them was written in a strange mix of Enochian, cuneiform and something Kevin had described as the doodling of a hyper active kindergartener. The only thing in its favour so far was that since it wasn’t the Word of God Kevin wasn’t the only one who could work on it. The young prophet might be tired, but he wasn’t clinging onto sanity by his fingernails anymore. Having Tiger Mommy in the Bunker was also helping as she could force all of them to eat and get something approaching a normal amount of sleep, well normal for hunters anyway.

The three men gave a slight jump as Sam’s phone started ringing. He fished it out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. A concerned frown furrowed his brow as he answered the call.

“Hello Jody. What’s up? . . . We cleared as much as we could from what was left of the house, but I’ve no idea what might be in the yard . . . No that doesn’t sound good . . . Yeah, I’m at the Bunker . . . Give me an hour or so to put a plan together . . . I’ll be with you by tonight . . . Stay away from there until I get to you . . . I know. Bye.”

Castiel and Kevin looked at Sam expectantly.

“That was Jody. Developers broke ground at Bobby’s old place today. They disturbed a swarm of non-native bugs that put one guy in the hospital.”

Kevin looked mildly confused, but Cas was chewing his lip and gently shaking his head.

“Bobby Singer was the go-to-guy for many hunters who needed to store dangerous objects. If the protection he placed around such items has been damaged there is no telling what could rise in Sioux Falls.”

Kevin pushed himself to his feet.

“Okay, this is hunter stuff and that I leave to you crazy guys. I’m gonna grab a shower before I hit the books again.”

He stopped in the doorway and said;

“No stealing Charlie from me, I need her here.”

Kevin pointed his finger at Sam and Cas in an attempt to look threatening, which might have worked better if he wasn’t sporting epic bedhead and yawning as he tried to menace, but both men promised not to steal Charlie away from his translation efforts. Cas sighed and poured himself a cup of coffee. It was the one thing he still enjoyed the taste of since returning to angel status.

“Do you have any idea what might be buried at Bobby’s place?”

“Nope, but I know a man who does. Would you be able to find him in Heaven and ask him?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. You won’t be going up there on your own will you?”

“Won’t be going where on his own?”

Sam turned in his seat and smiled as he saw Dorothy leaning against the door frame.

“Sioux Falls. You fancy a road trip? There’ll probably be ghosts to gank.”

“Oh honey, you had me at road trip.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cute domestic fluff from the Men of Letters Bunker just because I could.


	3. I don’t get paid enough for this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events at the old Singer place take a turn for the worse.

Noel Carter sighed and pulled on his thick coat. The little porta cabin that served as the security office was snug and warm, so he wasn’t overly keen to set foot outside to make his rounds. He fished his gloves out of his pockets and dawdled as he settled them over his thick fingers. Well he was as protected against the unseasonable weather as he was going to get so he may as well get this over and done with. He flicked the switch on his flash light and opened the door to a gust of frigid air.

A certain lack of imagination is a useful attribute in a night-watchman, the beam of a torch in the darkest hours of the night can make things look other than they are, and can result in a severe case of the creeps. Noel was a sensible man who didn’t let his imagination run away with him, so when he saw the figure of a man walk around from behind a stack of junked cars that’s exactly what he decided he was dealing with; a man. A trespasser probably, who’d come to poke around after the excitement of the earlier ground breaking. Noel had been informed that there been some problem this morning that resulted in Mr Hayes being taken to hospital, so this guy was more than likely a reporter snooping around for a scoop. Easily dealt with by a polite and firm manner and a stubborn refusal to answer any leading questions; not that Noel had any information, but not giving journalists the time of day was a matter of principle.

“Sir. You shouldn’t be here.”

Calm tone, level and non-threatening just in case this guy was a druggie still riding his high. As Noel got closer he suspected there was something off about this blue collar Joe, but he didn’t dwell on his rising unease. All he had to do was get the guy off the property with minimum fuss.

“Sir. Do you understand me? You shouldn’t be here. Time to call it a night and head home.”

The man flickered as he turned to face Noel and that must have been an optical illusion caused by the flash light deciding to blink on and off.

“I am home, boy. You’re trespassing.”

This guy must have had a skin full of the good stuff to be this muddled up. Noel glanced down at his malfunctioning flash light as it blinked and faded again, must be a loose connection. Noel flinched as he looked back up directly into the face of the drunken guy, who was now standing less than a foot away.

“Woah. You move like a cat Mister.”

The flash light threw the man’s face into sharp relief, all hard lines and long shadows, but now even Noel’s practical mind was screaming that this wasn’t all together on the level.

“Get off my property. NOW!”

As the man snarled the last word the tower of junkers rattled and groaned. Noel backed away from the precarious tower, but didn’t turn away from the man. This guy must have friends who were playing dangerous games now.

“Your buddies don’t want to be messing around with those cars.” 

In the flickering of his damned flash light Noel watched the man stretch his arms out from his sides. The ground between him and the trembling junkers bulged and cracked releasing a swarm of bugs. Noel’s rational mind shut up shop for the night and took a hike as he saw the man suck in the swarm. At this point Noel turned and ran; he ran until all he could hear was the pounding of his own feet and the slamming of his own heart. 

He made it back to his porta cabin and slammed the door behind him. It’s a strange twist of the human mind that security can be found in less than an inch of plywood. The reassurance that Noel took from that flimsy bit of wood might have been as shaky as his hands, but it was enough to allow him to reach for the phone and hit the direct dial for the Sheriff’s Office.

The phone was answered quickly, but Noel couldn’t find his voice. An eerie green light flooded the porta cabin and illuminated the salvage yard. Noel’s sensible mind refused to acknowledge the evidence his eyes were providing; in the space cleared for the ground breaking there now stood the ghostly form of a house and standing on the porch was the figure of the man.


	4. So get this. . .

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets some surprising news; the bigger shock is its good news.

It hadn’t taken long to put a plan together, but it took an embarrassing amount of time to pull everything together to actually head out of the Bunker. A few weeks of nothing but research and the tools of his trade had scattered all over the building. Sam dropped the Impala’s trunk and ran through his mental checklist again. Duffels full of clothes for Dorothy and him, monkey suits for masquerading as Feds, basic spell ingredients, salt rounds, iron knives, lighter fuel, matches and a couple of containers of rock salt. His laptop was on the front seat, so that was everything, no damn it . . .

“Looking for this?”

Charlie bounced into the garage waving a mobile phone and charger lead over her head. Sam couldn’t help but grin at her, Cas was right the red head’s upbeat attitude was refreshing and infectious.

“Was actually looking for my wallet, but that’s good as well.”

“Tiger Mommy’s got your wallet. Oh she hasn’t told you yet, has she?”

“Told me what?”

Charlie mimed zipping her lips shut and smiled at him. Sam was at a loss as to how to get her to spill the beans. He didn’t have to flounder long as Tiger Mommy arrived with Dorothy at her side.

“Here you go Sam. Cash, fake ID, credit cards and driving license.” 

“Ah, that’s why you had my wallet.”

He fanned out the cards and frowned at the credit cards. They were gold and platinum; levels that Dean and him usually avoided as there was more chance of the paperwork being investigated.

“Oh you’ve got to tell him!”

Charlie looked ready to explode. Tiger Mommy patted her arm and smiled at Sam.

“The name and paper trail are both fake, but they are as untraceable as anything else in this place and the money is all yours.”

“I’ve got forty bucks and a handful of change to my name. Nowhere near enough to back this kind of credit.”

“Sam Winchester the wanted felon who is presumed dead had forty bucks to his name. Sam Winchester legacy of the Men of Letters has around six million to his name.”

Sam blanched. He blinked a few times and opened his mouth then closed it again. He ran his hand through his hair as he tried to imagine having six million dollars. His brain refused to be helpful and gave him a metaphorical shrug. Sam swallowed and found his throat dry.

“What?”

Tiger Mommy laughed at him.

“The Men of Letters had trusts and funds set up all over the place. They’re hidden with every accounting trick I’ve ever seen and several I haven’t, some of which might be magical warding. I found it all a week ago, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up until I’d made sure we had access; thankfully the Men of Letter made that reasonably easy. Charlie used a few of her less than legal skills to make up the credit cards so you’re all set up.”

Over the past few weeks Sam had come to seen Linda Tran as the den mother of their dysfunctional little family, he now realized that he’d under estimated the serious skill set she brought to the team of hunters. He kicked himself for forgetting this was the woman who’d calmly adapted to having a prophet for a son, been willing to sell her soul to save her kid and survived torture and imprisonment by demons. At a loss for how to express his admiration for her his brain stuttered on the fact that they now had legal money.

“No more credit card scams? Or back room poker games? Or hustling pool?”

Dorothy held her hand up and stepped in;

“No need to be hasty. I like hustling pool.”

“You only need do it for fun now. I’d suggest you stick to your normal level of accommodations when you’re on the road; less questions asked in those places.”

“Wow.”

Charlie and Dorothy where grinning and chuckling at him, but Dorothy’s patience was running out.

“You can process your new wealth while we’re on the road, Rockefeller. We need to get going.”

Sam took a stride forward and gave Tiger Mommy a hug.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure. One less thing for you to worry about now.”

Dorothy grabbed his arm and tugged him towards the Impala; she had a little more tolerance for chick flick moments than Dean, but not by much. As they started to climb into the Impala Charlie called out;

“Cas has flited off upstairs already. He said he’ll meet you in Sioux Falls when he has news from Bobbie. Good hunting guys.”

Charlie and Tiger Mommy watched and waved as the impala roared out of the garage. 

“Kevin reckons they’ll be a couple by the time they get back.”

Tiger Mommy raised an eyebrow and mulled over the idea.

“A five hour road trip? If they don’t drive each other crazy I’d say my son could be right.”

 

\---{}---

 

To say Dorothy was impressed with the Impala was an understatement. Sam had never seen somebody so excited to be riding shotgun in the classic car. He’d never admit it, but as they hit the interstate he shifted up through the gears to let Baby’s engine roar just to see his passenger’s reaction. Dorothy’s groan of pleasure might have made Sam’s stomach flip happily.

“I take it you like the car then?”

“Oh, how could anyone not love her? That engine is sweet and all this leg room; this is definitely the way to travel.”

“Yeah, not so much on the leg room for me. You’re not missing your bike then?”

“I love my bike, but a long haul like this the clutch gives me a dead leg and its miserable if it rains.”

Baby ate up the miles of blacktop as the two hunters chatted easily about nothing of consequence.

\---{}---

Night was pulling in as Sam stopped for gas about an hour away from Sioux Falls. As Dorothy filled the tank Sam dialed Jody to let her know they were close. The phone was answered after one ring and Sam didn’t even manage to get out the first syllable of a greeting before the Sheriff’s tense voice plunged head first into conversation.

“Oh Sam. Tell me you’re almost here.”

“An hour away. We’re gonna hit the motel then swing by your office.”

“I need you in full Fed mode at Bobby’s as soon as you get into town.”

“Jody what’s happened?”

“Things have ramped up a notch or two. How many ghost houses have you come across?”

“Haunted houses? Loads.”

“No, not a haunted house. An actual ghost house. I’m looking at Bobby’s old house in all its eerie green shimmery glory.”

“Wow. The juice you’d need to manifest a building is massive. . .”

“Sam Winchester you can geek out about this once you’ve helped me calm down the scared townspeople. I think we’re about two steps away from flaming torches and pitchforks. Please remember this town took zombies in its stride.”

“If you can make any tickets I get disappear we’ll be there in thirty.”

“Step on it Sammy.”

The call ended without goodbyes and Sam looked around to see Dorothy already in the Impala leaning out of the passenger side window.

“Trouble?”

“Buckle up. I’m gonna show you what this Baby can really do.”

The hunter lost in time grinned and ducked back into the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I appear to be incapable of referring to Linda Tran by her name; she is Tiger Mommy to me.
> 
> And yes I'm with the head canon that the MOL would have some sort of funding so the boys now have cash. I don't think Tiger Mommy is going to let them go on a spending spree though.


	5. Times they are a changing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel visits the best source of knowledge on Singer Salvage.

Castiel felt the change the instant he touched down in Heaven. He’d landed in the perpetual Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man who had drowned; the corner of Heaven he favoured. There was nothing changed here, but the undercurrent of vibrations that Cas could best describe as Heaven’s backing track, had a different feel. This wasn’t uncommon the music of Heaven could shift because of any number of reasons; the call to arms; the arrival of an important soul; the death of one of the host. Cas shuddered and hoped that he’d never have to feel that particular screeching discord again.

Touching his finger tips to his lips he realised what the new tones meant, his vessel had understood before he had consciously made the connection. The lips that once belonged to a man willing to put his faith in an angel were smiling; Heaven was happy and the joy of it chimed it the very fabric of the place. Castiel closed his eyes and listened as his Grace responded to the vibrations. This was how Heaven should always be.

He shook himself from his pleasant daze and focused on the job at hand. A frown of concentration furrowed his brow as he located the personal heaven of Bobby Singer. His eyes slid closed and with a thought he transported himself to Bobby’s eternal reward. After touching down Cas took a deep breath and opened his eyes. As he’d suspected he found himself in the yard of Singer Salvage. There was a comfort in seeing this place again, for although it had never been his home in the same way as the Bunker, it was still a place that held memories of friendship and family.

“You just gonna just stand and gawp, or are you coming in boy?”

Castiel smiled at the gruff tone that called out from the porch of the house. He made his way up to the door taking a good look at Bobby Singer who stood frowning at him from underneath his baseball cap.

“Hello Bobby.”

“’bout time you came calling. Well, you best come on in.”

Bobby turned and walked into the house with Castiel trailing in his wake, still smiling. As he removed his ever present cap he called out.

“Karen, we got company!”

Castiel looked up as a honey blonde woman stepped out of the kitchen dusting flour from her hands on to her apron. She greeted Castiel with an open honest smile and said;

“You’re a new one. I’m Karen.”

Cas carefully shook her offered hand and frown slightly.

“You’re actually here.”

Karen nodded, but before she could explain Bobby moved to her side and threw a protective arm around her shoulder.

“You’ll have to forgive his manners, honey. Castiel spends far too much time round Sam and Dean to be a gentleman.”

Cas quickly searched through the knowledge that Metatron had dumped in his head and his lips quirked up into a tiny smile. He was still holding Karen’s hand, so he bowed and locked his eyes to hers.

“Please forgive my lack of manners, Mrs Singer. I was overcome by finding myself in the presence of such beauty.”

With that he gave Karen’s hand a brief kiss before gently releasing his grip and drawing himself up straight. Bobby rolled his eyes and gave a sigh as Karen laughed.

“Looks like he could give you some charm lessons Bobby.”

She gave her gruff husband a quick peck on the cheek.

“I know you boys have things to talk about so I’ll leave you too it. Lovely to finally meet you Castiel.”

With that Karen strolled back into the kitchen and slid the doors closed behind her. Bobby’s hand moved to his forehead to scratch under his baseball cap, except he’d removed it when he’d come into the house, so he ended up mussing his hair more than anything else. He huffed at himself and sat down at his desk.

“Come on then. I know you’ve got questions. Let’s have ‘em.”

“I didn’t know that you had a soul mate to share heaven with.”

“Yeah, well, according to heavenly standards I didn’t. Karen was in her own little box just like I was, until Hannah came and asked for a favour.”

Cas had been perusing the familiar book shelves smiling at the trio of little brass owls he remembered from his visits here, but turned to face Bobby at the mention of his sister’s name.

“Thought that’d grab your attention. Hannah has had an Epiphany now the angels want to learn about humans instead of just herding ‘em like cattle. The idea was to come and get you to teach ‘em, but Harahel pointed out they’ve got all these souls on tap up here to learn from.”

“So Hannah came to you.”

“They all did. It was like Grand Central Station in here for a while. Said I’d help as much as I could, but I wanted something in return.”

“To share heaven with your wife.”

“Yup. Don’t get me wrong, reliving the greatest hits was good, but I knew it was just memories, not real.”

Cas frowned at Bobby’s words.

“How did you know? Souls aren’t supposed to be aware of the nature of Heaven.”

“Turns out it’s a common problem with the souls of hunters. Spent too much time looking through the veil to have it pulled over our eyes I guess.”

Cas nodded slowly. There was something in Bobby’s suggestion that explained something else, but Cas couldn’t quite put it together yet. He put the thought to one side and focused on his mission.

“I also need your help Bobby.”

Bobby held up his hand.

“I know already. That idjit Dean’s gone and turned demon ‘cause of the Mark of Cain.”

The grizzled hunter watched as Castiel’s face slid from concerned to surprise and then shifted up into full on confused. Bobby chuckled.

“Got my own angel radio now. Cahethal’s been keeping me up to date on the boys. They knew a new demon had risen and I told ‘em if there’s crap happening you can bet the farm that one or both of the Winchester boys will be slap bang in the middle of it.”  
The angel nodded sadly.

“It is true. Dean is a Knight of Hell now. We’re working on finding a cure, but that’s not why I’m here now. There is a problem at your house, the one on Earth, developers have disturbed something.”

Bobby muttered something insulting under his breath then looked towards the kitchen door.

“Karen! Can you put some . . .”

The door slid open to reveal Karen balancing a tray on one hand.

“Put some coffee on maybe? Thought I’d have it ready before you felt the need to holler at me Bobby.”

Bobby shuffled some of the clutter on his desk into something approaching a tidy pile so Karen could put down the tray of coffee and cakes. He smiled fondly at his wife.

“What would I do without you, Mrs Singer?”

“Infect all of Heaven with your cantankerous grouching.”

She threw him a mock scandalized look over her shoulder as her swatted her behind before she vanished back into the kitchen. It occurred to Castiel that his brothers and sisters couldn’t have better teachers to learn of the complexities of humanity.

“Let’s get to it then. It’s gonna take a while to work out what those developers have stirred up with their messing.”


	6. Sifting the Ashes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of motel rooms, small explosions and a sassy angel.

It was close to four in the morning when Dorothy and Sam pushed open the door to their motel room in Sioux Falls. Jody had offered them beds at her place, but they decided it would be best if the ‘FBI’ didn’t look too friendly with the Sheriff. Dorothy kicked off her shoes as she walked to one of the queen sized beds, muttering thanks under her breath to Charlie for advising against high heels. She threw herself face first on to the bed with a small groan. Sam dumped his duffel by the door and looked with dawning horror at the room.

“Erm, I’ll just go and … erm, sorry.”

“Sam what are you wittering about?”

“I only got us one room. Force of habit travelling with Dean. Sorry.”

As he’d been stammering out his apology Dorothy had rolled off the bed and was rummaging around in her duffel for her toothbrush and PJs. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“One room; two beds; it’s all good Sam. You can’t possibly snore any worse than the Lion does and as cute as you maybe, I am far too tired to endanger your virtue tonight.”

Sam laughed and gratefully eased himself into one of the chairs. He bent at the waist to untie his shoes and gave Dorothy a cheeky smile from under the tumble of his hair.

“Aren’t you worried about me endangering your virtue?”

Dorothy paused at the door to the bathroom.

“Nope, ‘cause you don’t know how many concealed weapons I sleep with.”

He watched the bathroom door close with his mouth hanging open. As he heard the shower start he shook himself and muttered to himself;

“A woman offering you violence is not hot. What’s wrong with you? It’d be fun to find out just what she’s got hidden where.”

As his mind wandered idly in a pleasant fantasy Sam got to his feet and loosened his tie. He rolled his shoulders to shrug off his suit jacket and threw it without looking towards the second bed.

“What do you want me to do with this, Sam?”

Sam almost jumped out of his skin as he scrabbled at his waistband for his gun. His sagged with relief as he took in the sight of Castiel holding his suit jacket giving him a questioning look.

“Cas, you gotta stop doing that. How did you know where to find us? I thought the rib thingy was still warding us?”

“It is, but Dorothy doesn’t have the rib thingy.”

Sam could hear the air quotes and thought he might have caught a twitch in the angels’ hands. It looked like the air quotes was a mannerism that hadn’t survived the angels time as a human. Cas looked at the jacket in his hand and dropped it unceremoniously on to the bed.

“Dorothy doesn’t have angel warding or an anti-possession tattoo. Bobby said I was to give you a ding around the ear for letting her set off on a hunt without proper protection. I’m not sure how serious he was about me actually hitting you though, as he also told me to give Sheriff Mills a kiss from him when I see her.”

“I gotta be there when you deliver that.”

“Now I know he wasn’t serious. What have you discovered about the case?”

Sam groaned. He’d been hoping for a few hours of sleep. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to dislodge the gritty tired feeling.

“No rest for the wicked.”

“I understand that you are tired Sam, but Bobby and I require information to narrow down the items that are responsible for this…”

Cas stopped as Sam yawned hugely. The angel bit back a fond smile and suggested;

“If you’ll allow I could just access your memories. It will only take a moment, and then you can get some rest.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

Cas moved to Sam’s side and pressed two fingers to the taller man’s forehead.

 

\---{}---

Images from the last few hours ran at high speed through Sam’s mind as Cas worked his mojo.

 

_Dorothy climbing into the backseat as they barrelled down the highway towards Sioux Falls, so she could change into her Fed suit. Sam’s knuckles tightening on the steering wheel as he fought the urge to peek in the rear view._

_Sam making a similar quick change after parking the Impala on the side of the road less than half a mile from Singer Salvage; watching the strange lights in the sky that could only be coming from the yard as he slipped out of his jeans. Sam agreeing with Dorothy’s comment of “Why is nothing that pretty ever friendly?” as she kept her back firmly towards his half-dressed form._

_The Impala rolling up to the mob of people outside the gates of the Yard and Sheriff Mills looking relieved to see them. Sam and Dorothy fielding angry and fearful questions from people as Deputy Frank cleared a path for them towards the gates._

_Sam’s quiet suggestion to the Public Relations Rep from Jackson Hart Developers that the FBI would be very grateful if he could convince the townsfolk that this was a publicity stunt gone wrong. The verbal skill the PR guy employed to apologise for spooking everyone. “This was part of the celebration for the ground breaking and it should have been cancelled in light of the day’s events. Yes, the projection technology is very advanced and this is the level of excellence the town can expect from all Jackson Hart Developments.”_

_The retreating mob throwing suspicious looks over their shoulders, but accepting the reasonable fiction over the impossible reality._

_Sam’s EMF meter blowing up in his hand as he tried to get a reading of the ghostly house from the gates of the yard._

_Dorothy and Sheriff Mills arming themselves with rock salt shells and shotguns from the Impala’s trunk. Sam taking point as the three hunters cautiously explored the perimeter of the Yard, always staying in sight of each other; their features stained a sick green from the unnatural light the house was producing._

_The constant prickle at the back of Sam’s neck that made him certain something just out of sight was watching them._

_The gasp from Sheriff Mills as the house blinked out of existence plunging them into darkness. A steady white beam reassuring them as Dorothy was the first to switch on her torch._

_The Yard looking like nothing more than a construction site as they finished looking around in the pre-dawn gloom. A broken piece of wood in a skip that Sam recognized as having protective warding carved into it, slipped into a evidence bag filled with salt, just in case._

_The three of them standing around the Sheriff’s cruiser as she showed them the digital photos she’d managed to take, each one obscured with lens flare from the house._

_Sam patting the roof of the cruiser as Jody pulled away, heading back to town, with promises to see them later that day.  
Sam driving back to the motel; his eyes flicking to Dorothy more than was perhaps safe._

 

Cas removed his fingers and caught Sam’s arm as he swayed on his feet.

“Sorry, I should have warned you about the nausea.”

Sam waved him away with only a slight grumble and raided the mini bar for a bottle of water. Cas watched with a slight smile as the hunter’s head twitched towards the bathroom door as the shower stopped. The younger Winchester was a focused and experienced hunter, but Cas had caught tides of emotions that he recognized as desire, longing and a fair dollop of lust. There was also Sam’s permanent under current of angst and worry regarding anything approaching a relationship. He’d got it bad for Dorothy and Cas couldn’t resist teasing him just a little. 

“You should talk to Dorothy about protection.”

Sam managed not to spit water across the room and stared at the far too innocent expression on the angel’s face.

“She will need an anti-possession tattoo.”

Sam nodded and cursed his mind for its gutter thinking, until he remembered that Cas should get innuendo now. A memory of Dean asking if Cas had protection for his night with the reaper made Sam smile only a little sadly. Distraction came in the welcome form of Dorothy, as she emerged from the bathroom towelling her hair dry.

“Hey Feathers. Who’s getting a tattoo?”

“You are; you need one of these.”

Sam pulled the open neck of his shirt to one side revealing the inked symbol on his left pectoral muscle. Dorothy looked at it closely and Sam hoped like hell Cas didn’t notice his heart flutter.

“Stops you being possessed by demons? Already got one, just not that style.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah, since you’ve shown me yours, I’ll show you mine.”

Sam’s immediate snarky response withered in his throat as Dorothy hitched up her plain grey tee and pulled down the waistband of her sweats an inch or so. Sam took in the curve of her waist and the flare of her hip before he spotted Eye of Horus inked into her skin. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Looks good. Erm, Cas does that work against demons?”

“Oh yes, it will provide the same protections as your tattoo. You both should rest. I’ll be back later hopefully with news of what we are facing.”

In a flurry of wings the angel disappeared. Sam looked awkwardly at Dorothy for a second, before nervously laughing.

“I should grab a shower.”

Sam rested his head against the bathroom tiles, which still held the steamy warmth from Dorothy’s shower. He stared at his reflection and said softly to himself.

“Get your head in the game, Sam. Survive the hunt then you can ask her to dinner.”


	7. We’ve all got skeletons in our past.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby knows what they're dealing with, that doesn't mean he's happy about it.

Cas returned to Heaven feeling positive. Sam had seen the remains of broken curse boxes; once Bobby had identified their contents they would have a better idea what they were facing and how to defeat it. It felt good to have direction and hope about a hunt. Recent events with Dean and the Mark of Cain had left Cas feeling like they were circling the abyss with no possibility of accomplishing anything useful. With a mental shake Cas focused on finding Bobby, it did no good to sink into despair, all that did was make him want to find a liquor store and imbibe the whole stock. Again.

Bobby was tinkering around under the hood of a car when Cas found him. The angel was a little surprised that he wasn’t hip deep in books of lore.

“Is everything alright Bobby?”

The man rubbed his nose with the back of a grease smeared hand as he straightened up and faced the angel. 

“Just wanted to get some honest dirt on my hands instead of book dust. Couldn’t do much till you flapped back up here anyhow.”

Cas nodded and tactfully ignored whatever Bobby was hiding from him for the moment. Pushing the old hunter to talk about feelings was about as productive as teaching fish to ride bicycles. Cas touched two fingers to the man’s forehead, just below the ever present baseball cap, to transfer Sam’s observations. Bobby reeled backwards and pushed Cas’ hand away.

“BALLS! Okay son, the intel is useful. Next time can you filter out all of Sammy’s feelings?”

Cas grinned.

“Sorry Bobby.”

“Yeah. Damn it all, feel like I’ve got a teenaged girl’s diary in my brain. Still this Dorothy looks like she can hold her own, could be good for him. Lord knows that boy deserves a little happy in his life.”

Cas nodded in what he hoped was a gruff manly way. Bobby might project the perfect cantankerous old grouch image, but he had a soft spot for the Winchester brothers that could be seen from space. He shut the hood of the car with a solid clunk and turned towards the house, throwing back over his shoulder;

“Well, no time for lollygagging. I know what was in them boxes. You got double trouble going on down there.”

“Will it really be that bad?”

Bobby stopped and eyed the house thoughtfully. He turned to face Cas and for a moment Cas got a glimpse of the fierce hunter that Bobby Singer had been in live, all anger and steel.

“Won’t be the hardest thing that Sam and you have taken on; just remember we got things in our past that should see the light of day.”

Bobby’s shifty behaviour clicked into place and without employing any of his carefully learned human tact filters Cas blurted out;

“Things like the mysterious disappearance and suspected death of Ed Singer when you were a teenager?”

Bobby frowned and huffed out a grunt that almost covered the muttered, “Know it all angels.”

“Bobby, you can’t think that Sam would hold the death of a violent man against you? None of us have a past that would let us cast the first stone.”

“It ain’t what you or them boys think of it that worries me!”

“It’s what I think of it.”

Both angel and hunter were surprised by Karen’s voice. Bobby pulled his cap off and worried it between his still greasy hands as his wife approached. She pressed a kiss to his check and then slapped the back of his head.

“Ow!”

“Bobby Singer you are an idjit! There were always rumours about Ed’s disappearance flying around the town and it never put me off of chasing you. Not get your head outta your ass and tell these boys what they need to know to finish him off for good.”

The nerves melted from Bobby like morning dew under an August sun. He squared his shoulders and took Karen’s hand.

“Come on Cas. What do you know about Ouija Boards?” 

\---{}---

Armed with the knowledge that Bobby had provided Cas was ready to return to Earth and help with the hunt, but there was someone he had to see first.

“Hello Hannah.”

His sister appeared in the yard of Singer Salvage a small smile on her lips.

“Hello Castiel. How are you?”

“I am well. I hear that you are trying to learn from humanity?”

“Yes. The Singers are helping us all learn more about our Father’s best loved creations. I wanted to come straight to Earth and get you to guide us, but I think you have enough on your plate at the moment.”

Cas had to laugh at Hannah’s hesitant use of colloquial metaphor, one that he was sure came direct from Bobby’s collection of sayings, he was willing to bet that the angels were learning some more colourful language from his friend.

“I do have much on my mind at the moment, but I applaud your desire to know humans better.”

“I want to help you and the Winchesters Castiel. You can always call on me brother.”

“I know Hannah, but . . .”

Castiel was at a loss to explain that the haunting in South Dakota was a family thing. Bobby couldn’t leave Heaven and put it right so it fell to Sam and Cas. Hannah surprised him by saying;

“I understand that this hunt is something you want to do for Bobby. Just remember that being part of their family doesn’t stop you being part of ours as well.”

Cas smiled and gave Hannah a little bow, before he vanished and returned to Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little scene here, but I've had writer's block for weeks and getting even this down has been a struggle.


	8. Do your research.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've almost got all the info they need on the case, so why does Sam still feel uneasy?

Sam and Dorothy were already suited and on their way to the Sheriff’s Office when Cas appeared in the backseat of the Impala. Dorothy jumped a little at the sudden plus one in the car, but Sam simply grinned. The appearance of the angel at odd moments was old hat for him by now.

“Hello Sam, Dorothy.”

“Feathers, promise me you’ll never pop in on me like that when I’m on my bike.”

“Of course, that would be an invasion of personal space.”

Dorothy chuckled at the angel’s serious tone.

“You all up close and cosy I can cope with, I’m more concerned that the sudden extra weight would throw the balance off.”  
Cas tilted his head as he considered the hunters words and slowly nodded in agreement. Sam had a brief mental picture of Cas appearing as a pillion passenger with his wings extended for balance. He covered his sudden laugh as a cough and focused on driving. Less than a minute later they were parked in front of Sheriff’s Office. Cas got out of the car human fashion and Sam stretched across the Impala’s roof to hand him an ID badge. Cas flipped it open and raised an eyebrow at the name.

“Agent Bieber? You’re never going to forgive me for the Spears and Aguilera thing are you?”

“Nope.”

Cas rolled his eyes and stowed the badge inside his coat. As they entered the building Sam heard Dorothy whisper to Cas;

“Should I know those names?”

There was a touch of laughter in the angel’s voice as he replied;

“I’ll explain the references later.”

 

\---{}---

 

“Please tell me you have something?”

If the lack of a greeting wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the dark circles under Jody Mill’s eyes announced to the world how stressed she was this morning. From the bull pen came the constant ringing of phones and the sound of her deputies trying to calm people down. It appeared that Sioux Falls wasn’t taking their recent brush with the unusual all that well. Once Sam had closed her office door Cas began to explain what he’d learnt from his trip to Heaven.

“Bobby tells me we are dealing with two cursed items and a ghost. Luckily both items must still be at the salvage yard for them to be causing the disturbances. There is a pocket watch that belonged to William Livingstone. He was the mesmerist who first placed Andrew Jackson Davies in a trance.”

Cas paused when he saw Sam’s brow furrow.

“Andrew Jackson Davies? You mean the Poughkeepsie Seer?”

“Yes, strange that his nickname is your bug out code word and that his middle name is shared by the development company that started this problem.”

Sam shook his head, hoping that ‘Poughkeepsie’ cropping up wasn’t some kind of sign. As a Winchester he had a bad track record with so called coincidences. Usually there was something big, bad and ugly behind them. Dorothy asked the sensible question;

“Is there a link between this Seer and the developers?”

“I don’t believe so. The second item is the original Ouija Board that Elijah Bond patented. Both items amplify the power of a ghost and individually were the cause of some nasty hauntings before Bobby sealed them away.”

Jody heaved a weary sigh.

“I guess that explains why this is the Energizer Bunny of spooks. Do we know who the ghost is?”

The angel who normally stared so much it made people uncomfortable didn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he answered;

“Yes. The man in question is buried in the salvage yard, so salting and burning his bones should be simple.”

There was a manic tinge in Jody’s bark of laughter.

“Have you seen the size of that place? The bones could be anywhere, who knows how much stuff we’ll need to shift to get to them.”

Sam reached over Jody’s desk and carefully moved her coffee mug out of reach. The frantic sound in her voice made him think that less coffee would be best for now. Jody scowled at him, but didn’t pick up the cup again. Dorothy was staring at Cas with a calculating look on her face.

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem finding the bones, will we Cas? Fess up Feathers, who’s the ghost?”

Cas scrubbed his hand through his hair.

“Edward Singer.”

It was Jody who put two and two together first.

“Bobby’s dad. Right. Hang on. Frank get in here would you?”

Sam had connected the names as well; it didn’t take a genius to work out exactly why Bobby would know where the remains were. The results didn’t worry him, but none of the scenarios that lead to them were pleasant to consider. It might be an old hurt, but the idea that Bobby had been put in that position made his blood boil. Sam managed to school his features into his bland FBI mask just as Deputy Frank ambled into the office. 

“You hollered boss?”

The Sheriff leaned back in her chair.

“Frank here knows all the ins and outs of this town. What’s the gossip on Edward Singer?”

The older deputy sniffed and hooked his thumbs into his belt as he called the details to mind. The elder Singer was from before his time, but Sioux Falls was a small town and old gossip hung around a long time. Scandal, especially one linked to an odd ball family like the Singers, was chewed over again when fresh topics were thin on the ground.

“Father of Bobby Singer; mean drunk who was too free with his fists. People said he beat on the little wife of his and his son, but back then turning a blind eye was the done thing. He went missing back when Bobby would’ve been twelve or thirteen. I can tell you not a soul in this town looked too hard after him, or wept over him going. My own mother said he was a foul SOB and she didn’t never use strong language.”

Jody gave Frank a tight lipped smile and he nodded to the ladies as he left the room. She waited until the door clicked shut before she looked at Cas.

“Twelve year old Bobby took him out didn’t he?”

“Yes, and then buried him in the yard.”

“Well at least we know where to dig.”

Sam looked at each person in the room. Cas obviously had no problem with this revelation from Bobby’s past. If he had the way he shared the information would have been very different. Likewise Jody wasn’t thinking of Bobby any differently, she’d known the man he’d become and had come to like and respect him. Dorothy had a puzzled look on her face and for a second Sam thought she was going to say something against the man who’d been family to him. He was so convinced that he was about to have to defend Bobby that he was thrown when what Dorothy actually said was;

“How’s he controlling the bugs?”

“What?”

Dorothy shifted forward on her seat, talking with her hands enthusiastically;

“Sheriff, you saw bugs swarm up out of the earth at the ground breaking, right? And the security guard from last night said the bugs were working for the ghost. So how is Ed controlling them? Neither of the cursed objects give ghosts power over insects do they?”

Everyone turn to Cas for an answer on this point, but the angel was shaking his head. This was another problem they needed to work out before they took on the ghost. Sam bit his lip and thought for a moment.

“The only time Dean and me saw bugs act like that it was because of a Native American curse.”

Jody smiled at him.

“Sioux Falls isn’t just a pretty name you know. There’s a chance that there’s a curse older than the Singers on that land.”  
“So we need to find a Redskin?”

Sam choked a little at Dorothy’s word choice and Jody winced at the other woman. The time travelling hunter looked confused for a second.

“I take it that word isn’t acceptable these days?”

The two other humans in the room shook their heads and Dorothy groaned. Eighty years of social change and pop culture to catch up on was going to take a lot more lessons from Charlie.

“Okay, so I don’t offend the people we need to help us how about Castiel and I go and talk to the workmen, while you two go research the land.” 

“That sounds like a great idea. I’d rather we wait until evening at least to do the salt and burn. The town is on edge so it would be better if we can manage this on the down low.”

Sam clapped his hands together and rose to his feet.

“Sounds like we have a plan, guys.”

It wasn’t the blindest he ever gone into a job, but Sam felt a tiny prickle of doubt he wasn’t used to.


	9. The Last Pieces.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last pieces fall into place.

Dorothy and Castiel found Jackson Hart’s workforce in the local diner. The atmosphere held a tension that could turn very ugly, very quickly. The locals ranged from wary to openly giving the construction crew the skink eye, muttering that the men were to blame for the strange events. The workers returned the animosity towards the townsfolk with the added irritation of being on half pay while the project was on hold. The normally welcoming diner was not the most relaxing place to enjoy a cup of joe that morning.

As they made their way through the neutral zone that had formed down the middle of the diner Dorothy quietly asked Cas;  
“Is it possible that Ed is infecting everyone with his temper?”

Castiel gave a small shrug;

“A spectre can influence people’s emotions, but I’ve never seen one with this range.”

Castiel relaxed his shoulders and arranged his features into a look of a bored government official chasing pointless facts. He hoped that wouldn’t appear threatening, they didn’t need to get into a fight here and now; there’d be enough fighting to be done later in the day. Dorothy pulled an easy smile on her face as they approach the foreman.

“Hi there, Mr Lang? I’m Agent Gwen Cooper, would you mind answering a few questions for me?”

The foreman, Marcus Lang, roamed an appreciative eye over her, but his posture stayed tense. He cast as fast glance at his crew and then nodded his acceptance and pushed a chair out for ‘Agent Cooper’ with his foot. Dorothy settled herself opposite the man and took a notebook from her pocket.

“So Mr Lang, did you or your guys notice anything unusual at the development site?”

Marcus chuckled softly, the sound was out of place in the current atmosphere of the diner and he stopped quickly.

“There’s nothing but unusual up at that place. We’ve only cleared the junk and dug a few inspection trenches and you wouldn’t believe the things that came out of the ground.”

It was obvious to Cas that this man wanted to talk about the discoveries, but was testing the likelihood of his audience mocking him. Dorothy gave the man an easy smile.

“I’m just here to dot the I’s and cross the T’s Mr Lang. The lead agent is sure that this is a simple case of Eco-vandalism, and trust me there is nothing duller than dealing with the hippy types. You’d be doing me a favour if you’d tell me about anything strange and interesting before I have to fill out all the paperwork.”

Castiel was impressed; Dorothy had managed to pitch her tone perfectly into that of an overworked and underappreciated minion of the faceless bureaucracy. The play was simple, but it allowed an instant bonding between Mr Lang and Dorothy. The foreman’s face split into the first honest smile they had seen in town all morning. He leant forward and lowered his voice.

“One of the inspection trenches was only a few feet down when we hit this metal box, like a small shipping container, y’know? Delayed us for a day and a half ‘cause of course we had to pull the damn thing out. Well as young Mitch there pulled it free with the forklift it broke open and all these smaller boxes came tumbling out. They had these weird markings burnt into them. Devil worship stuff if you ask me.”

Dorothy had slowly leant forward hanging on his every word. She licked her lips before saying;

“What was in them?”

Marcus shrugged and took a moment for a dramatic pause. Castiel had to give it to the man he was quite the story teller, but right now the angel was itching for him to hurry up and tell them what he knew.

“That’s the really odd bit. Apart from a Ouija Board the stuff inside was just ordinary beat up junk, like a broken pocket watch and stuff. Nothing of any value. The guys think there some crazy cult or something based in this town.”

Dorothy made all of the right noises agreeing that it was a very strange thing indeed. 

“Just so my boss doesn’t chew me out, what happened to the boxes and the junk in them?”

“The boxes went in the skip ‘cause most of them where broken up in the fall and to be honest they gave me the creeps. The junk inside ended up in the office cabin. We hang on to random stuff like that till the end of a job, and then have a little prize for the oddest find. Keeps it interesting y’know.”

“Oh I hear that, Mr. Lang. Well that wraps it up from my side. Unless there’s anything else you can think of to tell us?”

“Nope, sorry agent. I know I’ll be glad if they pull the plug on this job. That place doesn’t feel right.”

She thanked him for his time and rose to leave. Cas and her were almost at the door when one of the locals stopped them.

“Please don’t judge us by the old Singer place. We’re good people here. Every town has a bad apple and for Sioux Falls that was Bobby Singer.”

Dorothy felt Cas bristle at the insult to his friend. She carefully stepped backwards on to his foot hoping it would be enough to remind him that this wasn’t the best time to kick up a fuss. She knew she’d got through to him when he took her elbow and steered her through the doorway, almost growling out a simple ‘Thank you’ to the man who’d accosted them. 

Once they were outside Castiel gripped the post of a parking meter so tightly that his handprint was left in the metal. He straightened his tie and gave Dorothy a shy smile.

“Shall we see what the others have found out?”

 

\---{}---

 

Sheriff Mills had Sam drive them to the library to talk to the one person who Jody thought would know about any Indian curses on the land.

“Who are we going to see?”

“Pretty Owl, she’s Sioux and if anyone can tell us about a curse on Bobby’s old place it’ll be her.”

They drove in silence for a moment before Jody asked;

“So you still a born again virgin then?”

Sam spluttered as a blush rose up his face.

“I’m just wondering, ‘cause it looks to me like you’re hoping that Dorothy will ring that bell for you.”

“It is that obvious?”

“Only to anyone with eyes and Charlie on speed dial.” 

Sam shook his head as he pulled into a parking space. Jody was looking at him expectantly as he killed the Impala’s engine. He sighed.

“Yes, still got my new V-card and yes I like Dorothy. I like her a lot, which is why I should stay away from her. Relationships and me don’t work out well.”

Jody patted his hand and shook her head sadly.

“Sam, life’s too short and too damn hard to shut yourself away from love. Dorothy is a time travelling, dimension hopping hunter, who can probably kick your ass into the middle of next week. She knows what’s out there and from the way she looks at you she’s willing to take a chance for a bit of happiness.”

Jody let herself out of the car, leaving Sam in silence as her words sunk in. He gave himself a shake and unfolded himself from the car. He followed Jody into the library still thinking about what she’d said.

Inside Jody found Pretty Owl on the front desk. Sam was surprised. He tried not to make assumptions about people, but he’d formed a mental image of a grandmotherly lady which would only be right in about forty years. Pretty Owl was young and, well pretty. Jody smiled and introduced him using his FBI cover. The young woman looked him over and shook her head.

“Agent Owen Harper? Unless there’s a barber strike in DC you’re no more a Fed than I’m Jack Harkness. You’re a hunter.”

Sam threw a slightly worried look at Jody who shrugged.

“What can I say? She’s smart.”

Sam nodded and decided to just roll with it. They needed the information to finish off Ed Singer. He put his fake ID away and smiled at Pretty Owl.

“Is there somewhere we can talk privately?”

Pretty Owl gestured for them to follow her and led the way to a cluttered office off the main hall. Once the door was closed she perched on the edge of the desk.

“Okay, so you’re a hunter who just happens to turn up as everything goes whacko at Mr Singer’s old place. I thought someone like you would be along sooner or later to ask questions, so I did some digging. There is a very old story about a curse on the Singer land.”

Sam was impressed; he wished it was always this easy to discover the history of a haunting.

“What sort of curse are we looking at? Does it have a focus?”

“The story goes that if the land passes out of the hands of the tribe a champion would rise and claim the land back. There’s nothing about a focus other than the land itself and there’s nothing on how to break the curse.”

Sam frowned as his mind lined up the facts.

“Why has the curse only started now? Bobby Singer’s family owned the land for at least two generations.”

“The Singer family married into the tribe about four generations back. It might only make them part Sioux, but that’s all it takes. Blood is blood.”

Sam wondered if Bobby had known about this aspect of his heritage; probably not since he hadn’t mentioned it to Castiel. This was the sort of thing Bobby would have researched to death had he known about it. This did mean that they were facing a big problem.

“If we take done the ghost, will that halt the curse?”

“I don’t think so, no. The champion can fall, but the curse will still spread like blight over the town. You’ve noticed how cranky and on edge everyone is? That’s the curse at work. Unless you can find a way to stop it tempers will start fraying under the strain and to be honest I don’t want to be here when that happens.”

Jody was looking slightly sick as images of how bad things could get for her town ran through her mind. Pretty Owl was tense, but she wasn’t running for the hills just yet, so maybe she thought they stood a chance at stopping the curse powered ghost.

“Is there anything you can think of that might help us?”

Pretty Owl shook her head sadly.

“The only way that might reverse this is if the land came back into the hands of the tribe, but I don’t have a few million spare to buy it back.”

Jody’s face was a picture of surprise as Sam broke into a huge grin.

“I need to make a phone call.”

 

\---{}---

 

Jody took her leave from Pretty Owl and jogged after Sam. She found him outside pacing in front of the Impala in deep conversation on his cell phone.

“It’s not just a crazy spending urge. It’s the only way to halt the curse and save the town. Will you please look into for me? Thank you Tiger Mommy.”

Jody punched Sam on the arm as he ended the call.

“Care to tell me what you’re looking so happy about?”

“I know someone with a few million spare. Me; technically it’s the Men of Letters money, but I’m the Legacy, so it’s mine.”

Jody gaped at him for a second, and then punched him on the arm again.

“Mister, that’s the kind of good news you share! If we survive this the victory beer is on you, Moneybags.”

“Not if, when. I’m not letting a ghost beat us.”


	10. Out of Mind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Food and forgotten things.

It was just past noon by the time they all met up back at the motel. Cas winged in coffee from somewhere, really good coffee that was gratefully received by the humans. Jody and Sam had picked up some burgers, but Sam found it hard to eat. It didn’t help that he’d picked up enough for four and since Cas didn’t eat, the spare sat there smothered in extra onions, reminding him who was missing from this hunt. Sam had been lost in thought for a good five minutes when Jody balled up her burger wrapper and threw it passed him in to the trash.

“Sam Winchester you listen to me now.”

Sam looked up and blinked rapidly denying the extra moisture in his eyes the chance to form into tears. Jody’s features soften for an instant then hardened again.

“We’re all missing Dean. We’re all worried about how bad this might get before we get him back, but we’ve got a job in front of us and moping isn’t going to get it done. Garth and his pack have gone into hiding. Krissy and the kids had dropped off the grid. Everyone Dean might contact is as safe as they can be. You’re doing all you can.”

Sam nodded slowly, but his eyes went wide as he realized that there were two people he hadn’t done a damn thing to protect. He looked towards Castiel in horror.

“Cas, what about Lisa and Ben?”

The angel smiled sadly. For Lisa and Ben he’d done as Dean asked him too, but that didn’t mean it sat easy with him. Cas knew that Dean was a much better person than he gave himself credit for and to take that away from the lives of two people struck Cas as the worst form of torture. He consoled himself that at least the Braedens had no idea what they were missing.

“They’re taken care of, Sam. I asked Hannah to watch over them. She’s with them twenty-four seven, unseen but ever watchful.”

Sam sagged with relief and dropped his face into his hands. Dorothy gave him a moment to compose himself before asking;

“What’s the plan of attack then?


	11. When in doubt, wing it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan held together for all of ten minutes, which was a surprise to everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of bugs in this chapter. I actually made my own skin crawl while writing this, but I am a bit of a wimp like that. Still you have been warned.

As with the best plans it was simple. True there was still plenty that could and most likely would go wrong, but they’d covered all the bases they could. They fall back on the classic ‘when in doubt, wing it’ if they had too.

Jody was going for the cursed objects in the site office. Cas had provided temporary curse boxes that would dampen the power of the pocket watch and Ouija Board till they could get them to a more secure home in the Bunker. Dorothy would be watching the Sheriff’s back armed up with rock salt shells and a flame thrower. Sam knew that fire would hold off any bug attacks for a while at least.

Castiel knew the exact location of Ed Singer’s bones so he would be doing the digging, which would be a simple task with his Grace. Sam would be covering him as a distraction so the ghost didn’t try to stop the salt and burn.

The weather actually helped them out; with the evening came storm clouds that made people want to batten down the hatches and stay indoors. Their job wouldn’t be made any easier if the heavens dumped the rain that the clouds held on them, but at least they didn’t have to worry about a mob getting cranky at the gates of the scrapyard. 

They were locked, loaded and ready to go.

Of course, it took less than ten minutes for the plan to fall apart; which was at least five minutes longer than any of them privately thought it would last for.

Jody and Dorothy made it the site office with no problems. It took Jody less than five seconds to force the lock on the door.

“Why Sheriff Mills. I’m shocked.”

“You’ve seen the company I keep.”

Dorothy chuckled as she took up position in the open doorway. Jody kept talking as she rifled through the filing cabinets and the desk drawers; it was purely to let Dorothy know that she was okay, and maybe just a little to reassure herself. She let out a small whoop of joy as she found the Ouija Board.

“One down!”

“Halfway there!”

Movement in the dark window caught Jody’s eye and her heart jumped. She was berating herself for flinching from her own reflection when the image shifted. Jody hoped to all that was holy her own features would never be etched with the rage she saw in the ghostly eyes of Ed Singer.

“Dorothy! On your six.”

“Duck!”

Dorothy had swung round when she heard Jody’s gasp and was already levelling the rock salt loaded shotgun at the spectre when the Sheriff called for help. She pulled the trigger just as Jody hit the floor with her hands protecting her head.  
The glass shattered and Ed Singer’s head turned to smoke, but instead of blowing to dust as a normal spook would Ed’s fragmented skull halted its outward progress and coalesced back into shape. Dorothy gaped at the spectacle for an instant, before Jody barrelled into her.

“RUN!”

Ed walked through the site office as the women retreated to a safe distance. They could hear his cruel laughter as they tried to shelter behind a tower of junk cars. With a wave of his hand the spectre started the tower of metal shaking, driving Jody and Dorothy out into the open once more.

“He’s playing with us!”

Dorothy threw Jody the shotgun and unslung the flamethrower. 

“Let’s cross the streams.”

If Jody was surprised that an time travelling octogenarian had just made a Ghostbusters reference she didn’t show it. She was too occupied steading her aim on the centre of Ed Singer’s chest.

“One, two, NOW!”

On Dorothy’s count Jody let the ghost have both barrels. Rock salt collided with the petrol fuel fury Dorothy had unleashed. The air was suddenly filled with pops and snaps. It wasn’t just the salt being superheated. The bugs that swarmed with in the ghostly shell of Ed were being flambéed. Ed’s howl of anger added to the ear splitting shrieks of a thousand burning bugs.  
Then silence. As their ears readjusted the normal sounds of the night came back to them; the wind rustling the trees; the bug bonfire popping; and the faint creaking from the piles of rusty metal around them. Dorothy and Jody shared a troubled look, while scanning for evidence of the ghost. The air was suddenly torn by a deep yell,

“SAM!”

Dorothy started to run towards the sound, but Jody dragged her to a halt. 

“Best thing we can do is get that pocket watch. Cas is with Sam. He’ll be fine. Come on!”

Dorothy resisted Jody’s frantic pulling on her arm for a split second; indecision and concern battling for dominance on her face.

“Pocket watch, let’s go.”

 

\---{}---

 

They left the women at the site office and began made their way around the sides of the spectral house, which had returned as the light faded. Sam and Castiel reached the grave easily enough. It took the archangel ten seconds to clear the earth from the bones. The hunter huffed as he thought how much time he’d spent digging up graves over the years. With efficient movements born of those long years of practise Sam upended the cans of salt into the hole over the bones. As he covered them he noticed the clear bullet hole in the right temple of the skull.

“Huh, Ed and Bobby have that in common I suppose.” 

Cas gave him a quizzical head tilt that turned into a look of panic.

“SAM!”

Before the warning had left the angel’s mouth Sam felt himself grabbed by the shoulder and hurled backwards like a ragdoll. The hunter braced for the impact that never came as Castiel zapped in behind him, preventing him from getting up close and personal with the digger blade of a JCB.

“Nice catch.”

“He’s trying to cover the bones again. Dorothy and Jody must had got one of the items, he feels weaker than he was.”

“Oh that’s weaker is it?”

Sam snagged his shotgun from the ground and followed in Castiel’s wake.

Ed Singer was growling with frustration at the pile of earth that had until a few minutes ago been covering his remains. Sam smiled as he realised that Cas had worked some angel mojo around the dirt so the ghost couldn’t tamper with it. He should have known that Bobby’s father wouldn’t let a little thing like angel mojo get in his way. The spectre threw his head back and spewed bugs into the open grave.

“Oh gross.”

Sam fired a salt round into Ed and spared a glance at Cas. The angel actually looked like he was going to puke.

“I don’t like bugs.”

Sam rolled his eyes and fired another round into the cackling Ed. Rock salt wasn’t having much of an effect on him, but it was keeping him distracted.

“The bones are salted we just have to get through the bugs to torch them.”

Cas casually ducked as Ed hurled a car door towards them. He threw Sam a kicked puppy dog look as he stood up.

“Cover me until I’m in there, then go and help the others.”

Sam was confused, but the habit of following orders during a hunt was too well ingrained in him to leave room for discussion. There are many sights that will stay with a hunter and haunt the wee hours of the morning. The sight of Castiel striding forward setting himself on fire was on that would deny Sam restful sleep many times in later years. The blazing angel plunged into the open grave and a seething wave of bugs swallowed him from sight. This image would also cause Sam to wish that scent wasn’t so closely tied with memory, as the stench of burning bugs was one of the rankest odours to ever assault his nostrils.  
As Sam gagged Castiel’s voice echoed in from the burning grave.

“This is not a pleasant experience. Hurry up and help the others Sam!”

Sam bolted around the ghost house and towards the site office. Even as he sped passed the familiar shape of Bobby’s home, he noticed that the building was beginning to fade. They were getting there.

 

\---{}---

 

If Castiel still believed that his absent Father was concerned with the details of his existence, he would have considered his current situation penance for disliking one of His creations. The angel loved bees and liked spiders, which many humans found creepy, but bugs just made him feel itchy. He could appreciate that many bugs were as industrious as bees and served a vital role within the balance of creation, but he just didn’t want to have to appreciate them close up, or in such numbers. The things he did for the brothers Winchester.

As his bones began to burn Ed Singer launched a last ditch attack on Castiel. With his power sources removed Ed hadn’t the juice to physically intimidate the angel, but regardless of the town’s opinions his fists were never Ed’s first choice to wound people. 

“Worthless son. Failure. Your father was right to abandon you.”

The insults echoed in Castiel’s mind and he had to try very hard not to laugh out loud, there was no way he was going to risk a mouthful of bugs. Ed felt his target’s mirth and was confused.

“Lest loved. Disappointment. Why are you laughing at me boy!?”

Castiel increased the fire around him as he grasped Ed Singers long dead skull from the bottom of the grave. In an explosion of flaming bugs Cas stood up right and said quietly to the flickering spirit.

“I am an Angel of the Lord and if I am a disappointment to God the Father what must he think of you Ed Singer?”

The ghost howled as the skull in the angel’s hands crumbled to dust. Castiel stepped out of the smoking grave and doused the flames engulfing him with a thought. Now it was just the Sioux curse to deal with.

 

\---{}---

 

Sam was in sight of the office when he heard the howl. It stopped him in his tracks and that was when the wall of bugs surrounded him. He took a deep breath to calm himself; the bugs weren’t attacking him just keeping him in one place. Tentatively he took a step forward, the encircling wall moved with him.

“This is not your land.”

The voice had a chattering quality to it, but it was clear enough to understand. Sam licked his dry lips and said as calmly as he could;

“No, it’s not my land, but I am trying to get it back for the tribe.”

The wall of bugs fluttered and shivered reminding Sam of a documentary he watched in some no tell motel years ago about bees. The waving motion of the swarm was a defence mechanism against attackers.

“You are not blood, why would you do this?”

A curse that was willing to talk was a new experience and Sam crossed his fingers that this wasn’t a diversion while it killed his friends.

“Bobby Singer, the last owner of this land you accepted, was like a father to me. He taught me that family don’t end with blood. I want to put this right because it’s what he would do; what he would want me to do in his place. Will you give me time to put this right?”

The waving patterns shivered across the surface of the swarm faster than before. The movement was dizzying, so much so that it was a few seconds before Sam realised he could see through the swarm. It was thinning out.

“You will have time.”

The final stragglers of the swarm disappeared in to the air as Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He sagged to his knees suddenly exhausted, but broke into a grin as he saw Jody and Dorothy hurrying towards him carrying the two curse boxes. The reached him just as Castiel fluttered to his side.

“Are you injured Sam?”

“Just tired. You okay?”

The angel smiled and nodded as he helped Sam to his feet.

“Is it done?”

Concern laced through Jody’s question, but she too found a smile as Sam confirmed that it was indeed done.

“I still have to get the land back for the tribe, but we’ve been given time.”

Dorothy pulled Jody into a victory hug as she stared at Castiel’s hair.

“Erm, Cas you’ve got something . . .”

She pointed at her own hair rather than finish her sentence. Cas reached up and pulled a singed bug carcass out of tangle of his dark curls. He shuddered and flicked the body to the ground.

“I’ll catch up with you at the motel. I’m going to stand under Niagara Falls until my skin stops crawling.”

With that the angel vanished. Sam shrugged in response to Dorothy’s confused look.

“He really doesn’t like bugs.”


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months later.

There was a carnival atmosphere in the air as the town gathered to celebrate the opening of Singer Park in Sioux Falls. Things had started looking up for the town after a rough patch a few months back. Jackson Hart Developers had tried to build the future on this site, but it had been discovered by an investigative reporter with the unlikely pen name of Kevin Solo that they had cheated and bribed their way to possession of the title deeds for the old Singer place. 

As part of the plea bargain the developers had returned the site to the town and turned it into a beautiful park. The speculation over the details of the scandal would keep the town in gossip for years to come. Pretty Owl was leaning against the new band stand smiling as people enjoyed the spring sunshine. The town that she had considered fleeing from felt like home again. All was well with the world.

She frowned slightly as she caught sight of a dark haired man watching her. He looked over dressed in his tan trench coat on such a pleasant day. The stranger smiled and gave her a small bow. Pretty Owl was distracted as the new Sheriff passed across her line of sight. She smiled and waved at him, but when she looked the trench coat wearing stranger had vanished.


End file.
